København Syndrom
by Moonlight-is-Innocence
Summary: Beauty and the Beast theme. DenNor pairing. Not your typical re-telling of the old tale. Enjoy.
1. Chapter 1

Okay! So, I won't give you all my little rambling over how I got the idea and everything. I'm just gonna say that it had to be done. Had to. And I hope I do a justice to it.

Summary: Beauty & the Beast theme. DenNor pairing. NOT a carbon copy of the movie, so if that's what you want be prepared to deal with disappointment. I'm going to try to incorporate elements from the original fairy tale as well. I realise, also, that a lot of this, especially in the beginning, will be very similar to the movie and that is because I'm using the movie's storyline as a sort of backbone to my fic and I love the characterisations in the movie. But again this WILL NOT be a carbon copy of the movie; I am going to try to make it as original as I possibly can. If you think I am straying too close to the movie's script, PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE tell me. I do not want that to happen.

Notes: I use human names for Denmark, Norway, and Iceland. They are: Søren, Aksel, and Nils. If you've read any of my other Nordic stories, you probably know that I typically use the name Haldor for Norway, but I decided to try a new one this time. Haldor never quite fit the best, but I did have a reason for wanting to use it. I liked Aksel and it is a Scandinavian name, so I figured why not? Also, I love the name Björk and the name Søren.

Word count: 1283

* * *

"Once upon a time, in a castle in the far north, there lived a—"

"Why do fairy tales always start with 'Once Upon a Time?'?"

"Because every great story starts with 'Once Upon a Time'. Now listen.

"There lived a handsome prince. He had everything his heart desired, yet he was spoiled, selfish, and unkind. One stormy night, an old beggar woman came to the castle and offered a single rose in return for shelter for the night."

"Was she really ugly?"

"Do you want to hear the story or not?"

"Yes…"

"Then get quiet and listen. Now, when the prince saw the woman's haggard appearance, he turned her away into the cold. But she warned him not to be deceived by appearances. When he refused her once more, she could see that there was no kindness in his heart. Her ugliness faded to reveal that she was truly a beautiful enchantress. The prince begged for forgiveness, but it was too late. She transformed the prince into a hideous Beast and placed a powerful spell upon the entire castle.

"The rose she had offered was an enchanted rose that would bloom until his twenty-first year. If he could learn to love another and earn love in return before then, the spell would be broken. If not, then he would be doomed to remain a beast forever."

* * *

Aksel was an unusual individual for his village. In the little town of Thor's Cliff, in the country of Nordland, there were many that found his reclusive ways, stoic expression, and dreamy ambitions to be downright bizarre. They were petty, simple people, the villagers. They, however, respected Aksel for his eloquence, poise, and physical beauty. In addition, his brother, Nils, was the town's local alchemist and inventor. Because of the brothers' nobility, the townspeople, whom often also thought of the younger brother as simply crazy, kept their whispers of the brothers' oddities quiet.

"Brother, I'm going into town." Aksel's light tenor called down into the basement of their humble cottage that served as his brother's workshop. Without waiting for a reply, he left, starting the short walk into the village.

As was usual, the appearance of the flaxen-haired youth garnered many "Hellos" and "Good mornings". Aksel was used to the attention he got and responded to the baker and the chimney sweep and the tailor and fish trader with the same polite replies of "hello" or "good morning". He sighed, as he went through the motions of everyday life in his village. The only escape he got was in the bookstore. The bookshoppe owner was nice enough to let him borrow books on an almost daily basis, hence his frequent trips into town.

"God dag, Berwald," Aksel greeted as he entered the shoppe.

"G'd m'rgon, Aksel. H'w're ya t'day?"

"Just fine, thanks. Here's the book I borrowed yesterday," he said, handing the novel back to its owner.

"Finished already?" Berwald's lips twitched in amusement at his most frequent visitor.

"It was a very good read," Aksel said simply, by way of explanation. "Anything new?"

"Not y't."

The youth shrugged and scoured the shelves. "Well then… I'll just borrow this one," he said, holding the book out.

"That one? Y've read sev'ral times 'lready. Y'sure?"

"It's my favourite…" he said with a fond smile directed at the cover.

"Th'en y'should keep it," Berwald urged.

Aksel frowned. "I couldn't…"

"I insist," the tall man replied, pushing the book into Aksel's arms.

With the newly acquired novel to read, the blond youth wandered around town, engrossed in his story. He could feel the eyes watching as he avoided obstacles deftly, stopping only for a moment to sit at the fountain in the village square.

The crack of a gunshot into the sky rang at the edge of Thor's Cliff village. A built man, with pale skin and paler hair, stood triumphantly, admiring his rifle. A slightly taller, tanned man with a clueless, happy expression ran up to his pale companion, proudly handing him the fallen goose he had retrieved.

"Wow, great shot, Gilbert!" The tan man exclaimed.

"I know, Toni," said the other, letting out a dark, hissing chuckle.

"Yeah, no animal stands a chance against you," Toni said. "And no girl, for that matter!"

"It's true, Antonio! Girls will fall to their knees for me! And that—" Gilbert threw an arm around his friend's shoulders and leaned in conspiratorially. "—is precisely why I've got my sights set on that one!" He pointed dramatically toward a certain youth passing by, flaxen-haired and his nose stuck in a book.

"Aksel? The inventor's brother? But he's a b—"

"The second most beautiful person in town! And therefore, he's the best. I deserve only the best, don't I?" Gilbert growled.

"Well, sure but—"

"Exactly! Now, here he comes." The albino man made certain stand directly in Aksel's path.

"Hello, Aksel," he greeted with a menacing, charming grin. Cobalt blue eyes glance up from the withered pages in acknowledgment.

"Good day, Gilbert," he said curtly.

"Y'know Aksel, the whole town—not me of course, I only hold you in the highest respect—is talking about you and your brother. I mean, all you ever do is read these dull books!" At this, he snatched the novel out of the young blond's hands and flipped through the pages.

"How can you even read these? There are no pictures!"

Aksel rolled his eyes. "Some people use their imaginations."

"It's about time you got your head out of the clouds," Gilbert said, haphazardly tossing the book on the ground. " And paid attention to more important things: like my awesomeness!"

The blond merely wiped off his book and responded with forced courtesy. "Look, Gilbert, I'm sorry, but I have to get home and help Brother with his experiment."

Both Gilbert and Antonio scoffed and the latter exclaimed. "But your brother is… crazy!"

"He is not. Do not speak of him that way," Aksel threatened.

"Yeah, don't speak of him like that!" Gilbert agreed, punching Antonio in the arm.

In the distance, an explosion could be heard and Aksel hurriedly left the company of the two men.

With the boy gone, the albino scowled and turned to the tanned man beside him, " Make no mistake. Aksel _will_ be mine."

* * *

The older brother sat on a bench as his sibling worked. While he never held much regard for the haughty albino's opinions, Gilbert's words had sunk into his mind. "_Am I really that odd?"_ was the question that ran through his head over and over. His faint sigh caught the snowy-haired teen's attention.

"Something the matter, Aksel?" He muttered, pouring an oddly amber-coloured liquid from one flask into another filled with something silvery.

"No… just that—well, I go into the village more often than you so you don't really get this but—I get a lot of attention yet I don't really fit in," Aksel explained.

"Hm…" A pause.

"Am I odd?" At this, Nils looked up at his sibling.

"You? No. It's all the rest of them that are odd. What gave you that idea?"

"I don't know. I can't really talk to anyone—besides you, of course."

The teen continued to work and speak. "That Beilschmidt guy seems to like you quiet a bit—though I admit he's somewhat… arrogant."

"Arrogant is right. Arrogant, rude, and utterly full of himself."

"Aha! Brother, look," Nils said vigorously. "I've done it. I turned ale into liquid gold." The flask in his hand was filled with a substance that shone brightly even in the dim workshop. Aksel gave his brother a small but proud smile.

"Help me get this equipment into the wagon and hitch up Björk," Nils demanded. "I'm off to the exhibition."

* * *

So, how'd I do? Questions, comments, concerns? Reviews are loved, critiques are welcome, and flames will be used to burn the witch.

Don't even ask about the whole "ale into gold" thing. Please. I don't even know.


	2. Chapter 2

Summary: Beauty & the Beast theme. DenNor pairing. NOT a carbon copy of the movie, so if that's what you want be prepared to deal with disappointment. I'm going to try to incorporate elements from the original fairy tale as well. I realise, also, that a lot of this, especially in the beginning, will be very similar to the movie and that is because I'm using the movie's storyline as a sort of backbone to my fic and I love the characterisations in the movie. But again this WILL NOT be a carbon copy of the movie; I am going to try to make it as original as I possibly can. If you think I am straying too close to the movie's script, PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE tell me. I do not want that to happen.

Notes: I use human names for Denmark, Norway, and Iceland. They are: Søren, Aksel, and Nils. If you've read any of my other Nordic stories, you probably know that I typically use the name Haldor for Norway, but I decided to try a new one this time. Haldor never quite fit the best, but I did have a reason for wanting to use it. I liked Aksel and it is a Scandinavian name, so I figured why not? Also, I love the name Björk and the name Søren.

Word count: 1997

* * *

As the forest became darker the more they delved into it, Nils became more anxious by the minute. He tried focusing on the clatter of Björk's hooves against the rugged dirt road.

"What do you think, Björk?" He asked the stout white pony. "Did we take a wrong turn somewhere?"

His only answer, naturally, was a nervous whinny from the animal. They slowed as they came up to a fork in the road and the teen held up his lantern, but the signpost in the middle of the fork was so old that it was unreadable even in broad daylight. The boy grimaced in annoyance and looked at his two options. One side was cheerfully bright, sunbeams filtering through the trees so that Nils could see the dust motes and small creatures floating and fluttering through the air. This track, however, was rugged and winding. He could see that the trail led downhill. The other branch of road, on the contrary, was dark, ominously dark, the trees overgrown, but the road itself was flat, unused—probably in favour of the sunnier road—and as far as Nils could tell, it remained flat for awhile. For this reason, the teen figured it would be a faster route. The darkness did not bother him and he had a lantern anyway. The snowy-haired boy steered his steed down this path.

All was well for what seemed like hours, but the low rumbling of thunder warned the boy that a storm was well on its way, and getting close.

"Steady, Björk. It's okay," he cooed to the frightened animal. They did not advance much farther before a growl of a different kind caught their attention. A large, beastly wolf crept toward them. Its bloodshot eyes were narrowed evilly at the horse and the froth that dribbled down its throat as it snapped its jaws at the horse's legs told Nils that the creature was rabid. He urged the pony forward and it took off at a gallop, the wagon behind it bumping and nearly toppling over. The rabid wolf was hot on their heels as it chased them through the forest. The boy's stomach churned as they burst through the forest only to be met with the edge of a very menacing cliff. Frantically, the pony backed up, enough to bring them out of the danger of falling only to be met with the demonic creature behind them. It stalked forward but before it had time to attack, Björk made an instinctual leap for the opening on one side of the wolf. The sudden jerk caused the wagon to unhitch, the momentum carrying it over the edge over the cliff, and as Nils flailed his arms to regain control of the pony, his lantern flung out of his grip and fell to the ground in a burst of fire. Björk ran back into the forest and the rabid wolf was caught behind the wall of flames.

The scared pony continued its sprint straight through the forest until its instincts told him he was out of danger. Finally, it slowed to a canter and the teen was able stop the animal. He slid from the animal's back and gripped the reigns in one hand while petting Björk comfortingly with the other. The trees thinned out into a clearing and Nils could see a black iron gate looming over him as he approached. Being under the cover of trees, he was unaffected by the weather up until this point. Approaching the gate slowly, he was quickly drenched by the rain that had picked up.

Björk the pony balked and whinnied, pulling at its reigns, trying to get away from the gate. A grand but menacing castle stood over Nils. He could understand that the animal was quite possibly sensing some danger that he couldn't, but the need for shelter from the storm trumped the desire to follow his pony's instincts.

"Come on, Björk! We need to go inside," he said to the animal, but the horse tugged itself free of its master's hold and ran off into the forest once more.

"Björk!"

Nils frowned at the loss of his loyal animal companion but a wind had picked up, chilling him to the bone. He shivered violently as the gust seemed to blow right through him and he hurried toward the front doors of the castle. The door creaked open, ostensibly on its own, and he slipped inside, letting out a sigh of relief at the warmth that seemed to melt a layer of ice off his skin. The castle was dark, empty, and when he called out, his own voiced echoing upon the vast ceiling was his only answer. The teen wandered forth and found a small den that came off the foyer. There was already a roaring fire crackling in the furnace. _Perhaps someone _is_ already here?_ But no, the little room, too, was empty.

Nils peeled off his sopping overcoat, laying it by the fire to dry, and sank down into the large, wing-backed chair. At his side there was a small reading table with a steaming cup of tea, a small bowl of sugar cubes, and a matching saucer of milk. He helped himself to the drink, feeling his eyes begin to droop from exhaustion and cold. Just as he was about to fall into complete slumber, he shivered from a sudden gust of freezing wind. The door had blown open and he could hear the shuffling of something moving behind him. The wind had extinguished the fire, forcing both the boy and the newcomer into darkness.

"What are you doing here?" A deep voice growled. The teen did not answer. Instead, he leapt from his seat, grabbing his coat, and turned to face whoever was behind him. He stared into the darkness, eyes slowly adjusting until he could make out a looming figure, darker than the rest of the room.

"Are you the lord of this castle?" He asked carefully, steadying the tremble in his voice so as to not provoke the other.

"That is none of your concern. Why did you come here?" The figure snarled again, louder than before.

"W-well, I was lost and needed shelter—"

"You shouldn't be here. You're not welcome here!"

Nils shrunk back, trying to not show fear. The figure circled him around the room, and from the light that shone in from the hallway, he could see that other's frightening visage. "I'm sorry, I—

"What are you staring at?" The monster's cruel roar caused the teen to make a run for the door. He, however, was caught by the hood of his coat and the lord dragged him to the highest tower of the palace. "If you want shelter, then I'll shelter you. In the dungeons!" He roared again, throwing the boy into a cold cell. The boy merely secluded himself as far away from the brute as possible, even though the other couldn't have touched him from the other side of the bars.

* * *

Nils stared listlessly through the bars for days. Each day, the monster would come up and look at him, but every time he did, the boy would cast his gaze out the tiny, barred window and onto the horizon of trees and mountains. He often wondered about Björk and about his brother Aksel.

One day, from the shadows across the chamber that held his cell, the lord asked him gruffly, "What do you have that's worth living for?" For once, Nils made eye contact with his captor.

"My brother. He is my only family," was all he said.

The creature scoffed. "Yet he is not loyal enough to come and find you. I have kept you here for days, now."

"I have no doubts that he will come."

"Do you now? How about we make a deal?" The lord sneered. "If your brother is as noble as you seem to think he is and indeed shows up for your rescue, then I will… I will simply let you go. But… if he does not, then I shall keep you here as my prisoner forever and you must never attempt to run away."

"What is stopping you from keeping me here otherwise?"

"Well, I could merely kill you and your brother, if he ever does show up, easily. Luckily for you, I am feeling generous, boy. So, do we have a deal?"

Nils was hesitant. He was sure that his brother would soon show up. He was sure… "Agreed."

The monster sneered again, showing his gleaming canines, and left the chamber, slamming the door in his wake.

* * *

It had been days since Nils had left and Aksel went through business as usual, except in that he spent more time at home cleaning, reading, and in general avoiding the red-eyed thorn in his side. One morning, he awoke with a feeling of dread in his gut. At late morning, a whinny outside confirmed his suspicion. Setting aside his book, he swiftly made his way to the back of the farmhouse. There stood Gilbert, smirking and holding the reigns of their pony, Björk.

"Gilbert…" The blond youth began, with a dangerous tone in his voice. "What are you doing with Björk and where is my brother?" The albino man stalked up to the other, near-dragging the pony behind him, as it bucked to be free of the stranger's hold.

Gilbert grinned down at Aksel. "Your horse was acting crazy, making a mad run through the town. You're lucky I was able to catch it before someone shot it. I decided to bring it to you, seeing as I'm such a good guy and all," he said with false sincerity.

"And your dear little brother…" He tutted. "Poor thing must have been lost in the woods. It's been days since he's been gone, am I wrong? I imagine he's been devoured by wolves by now."

"No," Aksel said firmly, narrowing his eyes. "I don't believe that. Nils is too smart to allow it to happen."

"I know this must be hard for you, but I can make it better." Gilbert let out a hissing laugh. He grabbed the shorter man's wrist with a firm grip. "Come on, Aksel, there's nothing left here for you. Everyone knows that your brother, crazy as he was, was the one keeping you two in any kind of money with his inane little inventions. Now that he's gone, you've got nothing. What—you don't believe me?" Aksel stared stoically at him; his eyes were darkened with distrust and he raised his chin in stubbornness towards the other's words.

The pale man's red eyes lit up, as though he found great pleasure in describing the dismal possibilities of his future to Aksel. "Just watch—slowly you'll have to sell or trade your furniture just to be able to eat, then you'll sell your horse to keep your little cottage; then eventually you'll have to get rid of your house and if you're lucky, you'll live in the attic of someone else's home! But… I know of a way, we can prevent any of this from happening." He grip tightened and he tugged the youth close. "Come live with me, Aksel. Be mine. Your brother is not coming back. You'll be better off this way."

Aksel became more annoyed by the troublesome man by the moment. With a heave as violent as he could make it, he pushed Gilbert away from him and grabbed Björk's reigns. He stormed into the house and locked every door and window, waiting for the annoying man to leave. It wasn't until sundown that Gilbert did so and in the meantime, Aksel dressed appropriately and prepared for the journey he was about to take. Once the albino was clearly out of sight, he grabbed his things and mounted Björk.

"I don't care what he says, what any of them say. Nils is out there, somewhere, and I will find him. No matter what."

* * *

Questions, suggestion, comments, concerns? Reviews are loved, critiques are welcome, and flames will be used to burn the witch.


	3. Chapter 3

ummary: Beauty & the Beast theme. DenNor pairing. NOT a carbon copy of the movie, so if that's what you want be prepared to deal with disappointment. I'm going to try to incorporate elements from the original fairy tale as well. I realise, also, that a lot of this, especially in the beginning, will be very similar to the movie and that is because I'm using the movie's storyline as a sort of backbone to my fic and I love the characterisations in the movie. But again this WILL NOT be a carbon copy of the movie; I am going to try to make it as original as I possibly can. If you think I am straying too close to the movie's script, PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE tell me. I do not want that to happen.

Notes: I use human names for Denmark, Norway, and Iceland. They are: Søren, Aksel, and Nils. If you've read any of my other Nordic stories, you probably know that I typically use the name Haldor for Norway, but I decided to try a new one this time. Haldor never quite fit the best, but I did have a reason for wanting to use it. I liked Aksel and it is a Scandinavian name, so I figured why not? Also, I love the name Björk and the name Søren.

Word count: 2022

* * *

Björk was eager and ready to leave when Aksel slid out the back door of the cottage. He mounted the pony and they took off at full speed. The intelligent pony took them all the way to the fork in the road before he slowed and continued cautiously forward, once again taking the darker, ominous path.

"Are you sure this is the right way, Björk?" The youth questioned. The pony snorted as if to say "Do you doubt me?" and Aksel laughed lightly and petted the animal's neck in reassurance. "Alright, lead on."

They continued down the path until they came to the clearing and the castle. Björk, still sensing the danger ahead, refused to go any further than the tree-line. Aksel dismounted, petting the pony again, and approached the gate. He gazed at it intently; it looked like a normal black iron, gate, but he could sense a kind of vibration that seemed to emanate from it. The castle towered over-head and he wondered if Nils was, in fact, inside.

He went back and coaxed Björk to walk with him slowly through the gate and up to the humongous front doors. Taking the door knocker with one hand, he gave it two firm pounds against the heavy door, which shortly thereafter creaked open. Aksel stood back, examining the door for a moment while gathering the resolve to go inside. He first tied Björk's reigns to the rose vines that crawled up the castle walls. It wasn't the strongest tethering but it would do. Björk was a loyal pony and had made it thus far without running. Aksel did not know if it was his own presence that had calmed the pony from a state of panic to leisure but it was clear that the animal was going nowhere.

Aksel stepped inside and was immediately greeted with the unnerving echo of his own footsteps. The feeling that he had gotten outside near the gate had increased ten-fold and he idly mused if there was some sort of fairy living here. The air in the foyer was stifling and he felt like he had to keep moving in order to rid his head of the uncomfortable buzzing feeling. He treaded lightly on his way up the stairs. Whispers seemed to follow him more and more, the higher he ascended.

* * *

A soft knock at his bedroom chamber doors brought the Beast to attention from his thoughts. He had been staring at the Rose once again. It haunted him during the day and occasionally brought him nightmares.

"What is it?" He barked in reply. A servant boy, not much younger than the Beast himself, entered the room and closed the door quietly.

"Pardon me, my lord, but… I was wondering… Forgive me if it too brash to say, but the boy… in the dungeon…." The servant stuttered over his words at the menacing glare he received. But he was not interrupted, so he pressed on. "Well… I could not help but noticed that, uh… not many fair, young maidens pass through this part of the country often. Perhaps it is the remoteness of the location of our, uh… fair castle, or perhaps a side-effect of the curse that was set upon us all those years ago but…"

"Get to the point!" The Beast snapped, quickly losing his patience with the boy's ramblings.

"W-well… I was wondering if… perhaps you had considered the boy in the dungeon."

"What?"

The poor servant was almost scared out of his wits at the sudden roar. "Please forgive me! I-I just thought that maybe… there was… another way to break the spell. I-I mean, what if you could learn to love the boy in a—" He floundered, trying to find the right words. "—in a platonic sense? And if he came to accept you as a… protector? What if that would be enough to break the spell? It's worth a try… is it not?" The servant boy finished speaking and nervously cast his eyes on the Beast, who was glaring at the hard floor in thought. His massive eyebrows were furrowed and his expression was screwed into one of apprehension, regret, and obvious inner turmoil.

The boy slid back towards the door just and the Beast lifted his head again to see him leave. He was once again left alone with his thoughts and considered that this new idea mightn't be terrible, if it got him to his ends. With a new resolve he set out to the tower that held his prisoner.

* * *

_Tap. Tap. Tap._

Aksel stopped and listened. He was certain he was being followed but every time he stopped the second set of footsteps that he thought he'd heard stopped and did not continue until after he did. His tracker was always thinking ahead or perhaps could read his thoughts. The occasional rustle would make him curious and he would creep quietly toward where he thought the noise was coming from. Unfortunately, he never saw anyone or anything other than ordinary, motionless furniture. Eventually, he realized that he had been ascending a tall tower, and his intuition was telling him to quickly get to the top.

Seconds melted into minutes, and minutes seemed to stretch on forever. Aksel was almost at the top of the tower, he could see a dark, wooden door ahead of him and a hazy figure passing through it.

_A ghost, perhaps._ Aksel though._ That would certainly explain the strange feeling and the sounds of footsteps._ He hurried even faster and got to the door, flinging it open. He stepped into the large chamber, which appeared to be a dungeon. It was cold, colder than even outside the castle. There were a number of barred cells on opposing walls of the dungeon; torches were mounted beside each cell and on two stone columns which were placed in thirds in the center aisle. Compared to what Aksel had seen of the rest of the fortress, this chamber was relatively small.

A raspy cough got his attention and he walked steadily towards the compartment it had come from. Snowy white hair, listless eyes, and a pallid complexion—Nils was impossible not to recognize. He was somewhat thinner than he had been when last Aksel saw his brother days ago. His blue-violet gaze turned from the barred window he had been staring out of to the gate of the cell that enclosed him, and, surprisingly, his expression changed—to one of surprise, as though he had been expecting someone else entirely.

"Aksel," he said in a low voice, approaching the barred door. Aksel's hand flew to his forehead.

"Brother, you're sick. Who is keeping you here? What happened?"

The teen didn't answer, as he stared beyond his brother to the looming figure behind him. A growl and a snort made Aksel turn and back up to the door of his brother's cell as he laid eyes on the same Herculean being.

"Who are you?" It said, addressing the newcomer.

The blond youth didn't answer. He stood protectively in front of his younger brother and stared hard at the creature in the shadows. This seemed to anger it and it growled again, louder. "Answer me when I address you, stranger! _Who_ are you?"

"He is my brother," Nils croaked out to his captor.

"Stay quiet, boy! Learn your place!" The Beast snapped. He appeared next to Aksel, who stumbled away from him, falling to the cold, stone floor and scraping his hand in the process of breaking his fall. The creature ripped open the door of Nils's dungeon cell and grabbed the boy by his arm, forcing him out. Nils glared, his blood starting to boil, but kept quiet, for fear of having his arm ripped off or worse.

"So you are the noble brother, come to save his kin, are you?" The Beast sneered, taking another good look at Aksel again. "Skinny, aren't you? And quite feminine."

"Swine." Aksel spat.

The creature let out a derisive growl and threw Nils to the floor apathetically, but the powerful shove was enough to knock the boy's head hard on the stone.

"Nils!" Aksel called, attempting to hide the distress in his voice. Inwardly, the Beast smirked at this. _The brother is fierier than the younger one. He'd be more fun to have around. And he does not yet know of the previous deal I made. 'I will simply let you go'. Hah! Maybe I'll let the little one go. I'd be keeping my word._

"Why are you doing this?"

"That boy crossed me and now he is my prisoner."

The blond youth scowled, glancing at Nils and back at the Beast, who was now standing in a moonbeam that gleamed through an open window. It was tall—quite a bit taller than Aksel himself and it made him wondering how old it was. Its fur was a golden brown, darker around the eyebrows and its maws, in addition to its darker blond mane—for it could not be described as anything but a mane. It had protruding lower incisors and wolf-like ears; and though it stood on its hind legs, it seemed as though it might be more comfortable on all fours. The most interesting feature of the Beast, however, was not its fur, fangs, or even the tail swishing idly back and forth behind it—it was its eyes. They were the brightest blue that Aksel had ever seen—an entrancing color, intense, like a rushing river in the height of summer. Free and wild; indicative of the spirit that lie behind the surface. They were deep and drew him in—and he thought to himself that they could not belong to anything that was not part Fae.

The massive creature had slowly approached him during the time that Aksel had taken to scrutinize it. Aksel was against a wall now, cornered but stood his ground.

"What do you want from me?" He asked, coolly.

"Do you want to save your pathetic brother?" The Beast shot back, motioning toward the inert boy still unconscious on the floor. "I could easily leave him here to die. It is in your power to save him."

The young man scowled again—torn between risking everything and just making an attempt to escape with Nils before he wakes up or bargaining with the barbarian that had kept his brother captive. Moments passed, silent except for the Beast's snuffled breathing. He watched as the slight blond struggled with himself. Finally, however, it seemed Aksel had come to a conclusion.

"What must I do?"

The Beast almost roared with laughter. They were playing right into his hands (or, paws). _This one will be fun to have around. I may even come to like him._

"I give you my word—that I will replace your brother to the village you came from"

"You will bring Nils back home? _Safely_?"

"Yes, he will be returned directly to your own home."

"And I…"

"In return, you must take his place here at the castle. You will stay here, with me, forever."

Aksel's eyes widened slightly. "Forever…" he mumbled, thinking to himself. _I would… never see Nils again… Although, I suppose, we could find a way. He could come back here. No, it's too dangerous. Unless he's armed… Perhaps then… I would never have to deal with that conceited annoyance, Beilschmidt. Which is worse: the Beast or _him_?_

"How will I know that Nils is safe at home?" He questioned, finally.

"You can't know."

"And why not?" Aksel snarled

"Because he will never be completely free from danger," he answered sagely. It did not quite follow the village youth's original intent but it was such a surprisingly-wise comment that it took him aback. It gave him a glimpse of the human within the Beast.

Relaxing his body, to show no intent to struggle or escape, the blond freed himself from the Beast's conversation and gathered up his brother from the floor. The boy had earned a large bruise on his temple, but otherwise seemed fine. Kin in arms, Aksel turned and stared into those captivating eyes and said, "I promise to do as you have said."


End file.
